Vancouver sound artist turns music, stories and science into blueprint for living with nature |
These in-their-own-words pieces are told to Patricia Lane and co-edited with input from the interviewee for the purpose of brevity.
Mendel Skulski applies the art of conversation in service of a livable future. As a sound artist, this young Vancouverite co-produces Future Ecologies, a podcast exploring our relationships with the natural world, layered with stories, science, music and soundscapes. As a community organizer with the False Creek Friends Society, Mendel also works to interconnect the neighbours of the unique inland sea at the heart of the city. Both projects offer the same public invitation: to imagine and take an active part in co-creating a healthier world.
Tell us about Future Ecologies.
In each episode of the podcast, we aim to take you on a sonic journey that will forever change how you see the natural world. Many people are raised thinking of nature as something passive and separate from their lives as human beings. We tell stories that challenge that assumption. Often they feature Indigenous world views, where active participation is key to thriving ecosystems and thriving people. Millennia of Indigenous stewardship have left countless traces on the landscape, but you have to learn to notice them. One example: sea gardens are places where humans modified the intertidal zone to support abundant food, medicine and biodiversity.
My co-producer Adam Huggins and I constantly experiment with the format, exploring documentary, audio collage and more. Episodes might have one guest voice or dozens, but we always use music and sound design to tell half the story. To quote a recent guest, Margo Robbins, we “take it from a mind-knowing thing to a heart-felt thing.”
Tell us about your work at False Creek.
I got introduced to the False Creek Friends Society (FCFS) when I was invited to produce their new video podcast, Waterbodies. I learned about the issues facing False Creek, and met people who care deeply about it.
I began to understand that False Creek has enormous transformative potential. It is central to Vancouver’s identity yet falls short across many dimensions, including climate resiliency, biodiversity, water quality, civic amenities, safety and aesthetics. It doesn’t live out its potential to support our public physical or cultural health. While the planet may feel out of control, False Creek seems like the perfect scale for people to consider their role in change for the better.
This year, sadly, Zaida Schneider, founder and lead campaigner at FCFS, fell ill and asked me to succeed him. I find myself navigating a strange graduation from podcaster to executive manager. It turns out that those jobs are not dissimilar: they’re both good excuses to meet people and learn what motivates them. I am finding what moves us is love for the shared place where we live.
How did you get into this kind of work?
My working life has been a series of idealistic passion projects, which I’ve pursued through a mix of stubbornness, privilege and luck. I’ve had the good fortune to get by while practicing things that I enjoy and staying rooted in my values. Luckier still, the best opportunities I’ve had to learn and grow have come without me seeking them out. I’ve simply developed my gut sense of when to say “yes” to a new adventure.
We’re all drowning in information, and we all have something to say. When my signal is your noise, how can we communicate?
In these overwhelming times, people are starving to make a difference they can see and feel. I believe that our hearts already know the medicine: to put our hands in the soil, get to know our more-than-human neighbours, live life in person and build something beautiful together.
What about your background influences where you are today?
I’m grateful for all the early childhood time I was given with Vancouver’s forests and beaches. It was much later that I began to recognize how “pristine” nature is almost always a myth. These spaces have been profoundly shaped and reshaped by human influences, be they Indigenous or colonial.
I studied industrial design, and although my path has taken me elsewhere, my education in design-thinking has informed everything since. I approach most problems by considering the needs of the end user, the practicalities necessary to fulfill those needs and how to convey the most important information as efficiently and intuitively as possible.
What would you like to say to other young people?
If you feel like the world is broken, it is. If someone says you have to accept it, they’re wrong. You will find joy and meaning through living your values. Life, like art, isn’t magic. It’s practice.
What about older readers?
Each generation arrives only seeing the world as it currently is, with no awareness of how it has been before. It’s vital that we learn from the past, both in terms of the things that worked well and those that didn’t. Our agency to change is empowered by your memory, not to be stuck in nostalgia, but to imagine a better future.